The Death of Marietta Edgecombe
by Hazuzu
Summary: Marietta Edgecombe is found dead in her paramour's bedroom. No motive, no murder weapon, not even a cause of death. It's up to muggle Police Officer Laura Blues to solve the case, with the help of a curious woman who claims to be a Detective...


This story was written for the 6th Round of the Seventh Season of the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition. I'm writing as Chaser 3 for The Tutshill Tornados.

**Name of Round:** Much Ado About Shakespeare

**My task this round is as follows:** _Infidelity/False Infidelity. _Write about an accusation of unfaithfulness in a relationship and the aftermath of this. (It's up to you whether the accusation is true or not)

**These are the prompts I'm using to as a chaser to score some extra points:**

1\. (word) uncomfortable

3\. (dialogue) "Are you really eating pizza in the middle of this?"

5\. (song) Guiltless - dodie

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any part of Harry Potter.

**WARNING:** Murder, mild sexual references.

**Title:** The Death of Marietta Edgecombe

**Words:** 2,929 (LibreOffice)

* * *

~End of Author's Notes~

* * *

"Hedgehog carcass on sidewalk, tire tread on burst stomach." A woman clad in a police uniform stood on the corner of a dismal street. Her radio crackled to life with a response.

"That's wonderful, Laura, but you're there to solve a murder," the radio replied.

"It's sad, is all." Laura sighed and turned away from the street. What met her eyes wasn't much prettier. It was a simple little house in a simple little town; the kind of house she could see herself living in. And now police tape surrounded it. "A little more care and that hedgehog'd be back home with its family."

"It's just a hedgehog."

"Doesn't make whatever arse was driving guiltless, does it?" Laura sighed. "I know, no use getting angry. I'm heading in now." She hoped for a reply, but none came. She trudged across the rain-slick slabs and up to the house proper. She forced herself up the dusty stairs, across the railing, and to the first door on the left.

It was a nice enough bedroom, for a bloke's. It was a nice enough bedroom, for a bloke's. One bed sat by the wall, accompanied by a few football posters and pictures of the occupant's friends. It was the kind of place she'd expect to smell of too much deodorant, but the body-snatchers' sterile bleach had replaced that stench. Well, the undertakers' sterile bleach, but calling them that took the fun out of murder investigations. There was precious little of that to spare.

"Officer Blues!" Came a voice from behind Laura. She spun on her heel to find a dark-skinned woman smiling at her. "A pleasure to meet you. I'm Detective Mckenzie Calderwood." She held out a gloved hand. It was too pristine, like the rest of her. Who wore a suit to a crime scene?

"Right, hello." Laura forced a smile at the stranger and shook her hand. "I don't remember being told about a Detective on the scene."

"Oh, but I am. Very official." Mckenzie reached into her coat and retrieved two things. One was a badge, along with ID, and the other an official form with all the right signatures. "And very efficient." In a blink of an eye, a manila folder replaced her documentation. "That's everything from the coroners and people around the scene. Plus, everything I've discovered so far."

"Alright, then, let's have a look." Laura cradled the folder against her arm and started to pore through it. "At half seven this morning, Marietta Edgecombe-Moore was found dead in the bedroom of Roger Hastings."

"Oh, I know. I read it already." Mckenzie flashed an easy smile. Too easy, by Laura's reckoning.

"Yeah, it just helps me remember if I read it out loud," Laura said.

"Oh, interesting. Carry on, then."

"I was going to..." Laura shook her head minutely. "The body was reported by Roger Hastings immediately after. Police arrived ten minutes later. There are no signs of trauma on the body. Preliminary examinations suggest the body had been dead for at least six hours by the time the officers arrived. Alcohol was found in her system, as well as evidence of," she wrinkled her nose, "Sexual intercourse. That's just not right."

"Indeed. A dead body with no sign of trauma? Very curious." Mckenzie tapped her chin.

"I was thinking about her privacy. You don't want that on your autopsy report. Here lies Laura Blues, dead, but at least she had a smile on her face." Laura shuddered.

"Oh, that too." Mckenzie laughed. Laura shot her a sideways glance. "Regardless, we have a suspect to question. To the police station." With that, she turned on her heel and strode towards the stairs.

"Wait, we?" Laura tucked the folder under her arm and hurried after the Detective. She cursed her stubby legs when she saw the woman already at the door.

"I'd like to think the two of us can solve this case." Mckenzie stepped onto the rain-slick porch and held the door open. "Unless you've got a problem with it?"

"Me? No, I'm happy as a pig in shit," Laura lied.

* * *

The interview room was pleasant enough, for what it was. The walls and floor were cool blue, the furniture simple, and the scent store-brand. If Laura thought hard enough, she could pretend she was performing a job interview, rather than a trial to see if the man she was speaking to had done a murder.

"So. Roger Hastings." Mckenzie swept into the room and stole a chair for herself. "Baker, lives alone, Manchester United fan. My name is Detective Calderwood and this is Officer Blues." She gestured to her side and Laura tried her best to smile at the man as she shuffled into the empty seat. "Can you relate to us your version of events, starting from the first time you saw Marietta yesterday?"

"Hello. Um, yes, I can try." Roger scratched his stubbly jaw. It didn't suit him, Laura thought. Neither did the darkness around his eyes; he looked too soft for it. "It was eleven, around eleven, and I was catching up on Question of Sport."

"At eleven?" Laura balked.

"Question of Sport?" Mckenzie looked between the two.

"Yeah, it's this, quiz thing. I had it recorded," Roger sighed heavily. Normally that would have made Laura think he was faking, but she didn't know the man. "And I got this text from Mari, she said she wanted to see me, that her husband was angry at h"

"Her husband," Mckenzie repeated. A wedding ring had been found in Marietta's possessions, and his identity confirmed soon after that. "Do you know who he is?"

"No, not really. Mari says… Said he's a bastard, but two sides, am I right?" He flashed a twitchy sort of smile.

"You knew she has a husband and you still slept with her?" Laura crinkled her nose.

"Um, yes. Sorry?" Laura could have strangled him right then and there. The tone was meant to make it sound like he didn't know it was wrong. Maybe he didn't even think it was. But telling him wouldn't make her job any easier, so she settled for clenching her fist. "Anyway, so I said she can come over, and she was quite drunk. She wanted to get right into it, too."

"Hmm." Mckenzie steepled her fingers on the table. "Have you ever slept with her before?"

"No, but, I wasn't going to say no that time." Roger shrugged.

She was drunk as well, and not a part of him was wired to notice anything wrong with that. This was the worst part of the interviews; seeing how comfortable some people were with what they'd done. And how much more uncomfortable that made Laura. Yet there was Mckenzie, who hadn't even batted an eyelash. Maybe it was a Detective thing. If so, Laura didn't want to be one.

"Anyway, so, I did get into it, and when I… When it was over, I went right to sleep."

"Typical," Laura muttered. Woman destroyed the sanctity of her marriage and he couldn't put in the effort to cuddle.

"And when I woke up, there she was, right beside me. Dead." Roger hung his head. "I tried to wake her up. Didn't work, obviously, but you've got to try. Then I panicked, tried to pull some clothes on, got halfway through before realizing I should call the police, and I've been here since." He finished with his voice weaker than when he'd started. "I did the right thing, didn't I?"

"You certainly did," Mckenzie said. "Do you know anyone like Marietta? Perhaps when you met her? People you knew that she didn't? Anyone a little odd?"

"I don't think so, no." Roger sighed. "She just came into the bakery for shortbread now and then. Got my number, shared some texts. Friendly things."

"Alrighty then." Mckenzie rose to her feet in one swift motion. "We'll be back if we need to ask any more questions." And she was already halfway out the door.

"Bye." Laura's farewell was clipped. As soon as the door closed, she rolled her eyes. "What a bastard."

"I suppose he is. Let's hope the husband is more agreeable."

* * *

It was a nice house. Maintained garden, posh modern furniture, warm lighting. It would have been a nice reprieve from the cloudy weather if it weren't for the dismal atmosphere. The husband was sat on the sofa, beside a bin overflowing with tissues. His eyes were bloodshot tear streaks stained his puffy red cheeks. His friends were round, and Mckenzie had taken them to another room for questioning.

"So, Luke Moore." Laura smiled at the man. She didn't expect one back. "Can you tell me ho—"

A giggle from the TV interrupted her. A VHS was playing. It didn't take much to notice it was a wedding.

"I'm sorry. I'll mute it." Luke grabbed for the remote with a calloused hand and did just that.

"It's alright," Laura assured him, just as the camera panned over the rest of the audience. Just about everyone was in some kind of colorful robe. She'd have expected that from the priest, but… "Fancy dress?"

"Witches and wizards." Luke shrugged his burly shoulders as he hunched over on his knees. "Mari's idea."

"Cute," Laura said. Not her cup of tea in particular. "So, last night. Marietta. How'd she leave, Mr. Moore?"

"Well… We argued; a screaming match, really. Over something stupid. The dishwasher, can't get it to work for the life of me." Luke was doing everything he could to avoid looking at Laura. Guilty conscious, or just a grieving widower? "We'd been having too many of them lately."

"Sorry to hear that, Mr. Moore." Laura clucked her tongue. "And that argument is what prompted her to leave?"

"Yeah. Hal ten, she just up and left, as drunk as I'd ever seen her. Didn't know where she'd gone. I just wanted to sleep. I had no idea where she w—"

"That's not entirely accurate," Mckenzie interrupted from the doorway. "Mr. Moore, I've been speaking with your friends, and they say that you've suspected Marietta of cheating for quite some time." She leaned against the back of Laura's armchair.

"I have not." Mr. Moore shook his head and his lank locks with it. "I… Look, I accused her of intending to. There's a difference."

"I see." Mckenzie clicked her tongue. "I see, I see, I see. Do you have any idea of how she died?"

"The man on the phone, he said the cause isn't known," Luke mumbled.

"That's right. Almost as if it was done... By magic." Mckenzie said. From how they were looking at each other, the words must have had weight, but Laura couldn't tell what it was. She had to stop herself from grinding her teeth.

"Look… I don't get along with your lot," Luke said.

"Your lot?!" Laura sputtered. She couldn't help it. "Mr. Moore, Detective Calderwood is an officer of the law. You apologize, right now."

"Never mind that," Mckenzie waved her hand like Luke hadn't just been racist right to her face. "Has Marietta had any contact with my lot recently? Have you?"

"None, aside from her family," Luke said. "I was never interested. I just loved her for her."

"I see." Mckenzie gazed over at the television, as the rings were carried to the altar and the camera cut to the audience. "What about any of the wedding guests?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"I see." All of a sudden, the tension left Mckenzie. "Shame the cameraman missed the vows. They're my favorite bit. Come on, Laura. We have police work to be doing."

"Already?" Laura stood on shaky legs.

"Already. We'll need a warrant to search the place regardless. Goodbye, Mr. Moore."

* * *

"So here's what we know." Mckenzie was sat at the end of a park bench, tempting the dark clouds to start raining on her. "Marietta left her home, already drunk, at half ten. She arrived at Roger's house at around eleven. They slept together, then Roger went to sleep. Shortly after that, she died. The coroner's report says there's no trace of poison in her system, nor any sign of organ failure, and no disturbances on the route between the two… Homes..."

Mckenzie stared at Laura. The policewoman had opened a little box from the chippy and was chomping on a particularly greasy chunk of pizza.

"Are you really eating pizza in the middle of this?" Mckenzie raised an eyebrow.

"I." Laura had to take a break to swallow a mouthful of cheesy goodness. "I eat when I'm uncomfortable." She looked down at the box, which steamed in the cool air. "You can have some if you want."

"Is it just the murder?" Mckenzie took one look at the gooey cheese, the stain on the bottom of the box, and kept her hands well away.

"It's the people," Laura muttered. "Luke wasn't accusing her of cheating, he was accusing her of thinking it. Because that's much better for your head, that. And then he lied to us, like people do, about their argument, because of someone's reputation? Much better than justice. Then Roger, the rat, sleeping with a married woman who's drunk off her tits." She tossed the crust back into the box. "It's so tiring. The adultery, the lying, the… The callousness! That's a good word for it."

"It's a fact of the job, I'm afraid." Mckenzie looked across the empty park and squinted. "People are people no matter what we do, and getting mad at them won't solve anything. They won't thank you for it, either. Better to put that effort into solving the mystery, don't you think?"

"Oh, yeah..." Laura stuck her tongue out at nothing in particular. "We've got no murder method, no murder weapon, no witnesses, and… Nothing. And, no offense meant, I'm sure you're lovely, I'm working with a woman who acts like she knows things she's not telling me."

"That's understandably frustrating."

"And then doesn't even get mad when I point it out! That's weird. You… Weirdo." Laura huffed.

"Oh, I'm not that weird," Mckenzie said. At that moment, an owl swooped down from the sky and flew right overhead. Laura squealed and clutched her pizza box to her chest as something hit the table. Mckenzie opened the object, some kind of envelope, and smiled. "Oh, I've got a lead! Let's go; you can eat your pizza on the way."

"Wh… What?" Laura jumped to her feet when Mckenzie started striding. "An owl just… What?!" When Mckenzie ignored her, Laura snatched a slice of pizza and chewed half of it off in one bite.

* * *

Laura found herself sitting at a coffee table in a cozy little den, opposite an old man with a silvery beard that reached his knees.

"My name is Galos," he wheezed. "Your office passed on my message? Good. Very good." Galos took a sip of his tea and eyed Laura. He looked familiar. If Laura could just put her finger on it... "Do I have permission to speak freely?"

"Let's say free-ish. Your letter said you have a suspicion?" Mckenzie asked.

"Yes. Almost certainly, yes." Galos nodded grimly, shifting the reflection of the dwindling sun on his head. "You see… I was the priest for Marietta and Luke's wedding."

"That was you?" Laura snapped her fingers. "It was! I remember!"

"Indeed. Marietta and Luke had some concerns about their wedding. On both sides." Galos cleared his throat. "So… Marietta asked me for something that would put those worries to rest. They needed someone who could be discreet, and so I was, and so I helped them."

Mckenzie nodded once. Laura furrowed her brow.

"Here, I have a copy, of their vows. Sentimental reasons, but..." Galos reached under the coffee table and retrieved an ornate wooden box. His aged fingers rifled through them for a few moments, before retrieving a scrap of paper. "I, Marietta Edgecombe, take thee, Luke Moore, to be my wedded Husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish only you, lest death part us." He held the paper out to Mckenzie.

"Odd choice of words," Mckenzie read the paper and passed it to Laura.

"Indeed. And Marietta made it clear to me that these vows ought to be unbreakable."

Laura felt that weight again. The idea that things were being said that she couldn't hear. She read the paper a half dozen times and nothing became any clearer.

"The theme was Marietta's idea. The vows, too," Mckenzie said. "Did the cameraman know?"

"I believe he was instructed to focus on the crowd, yes," Galos answered.

"And it was the usual method. No signs?"

"Again, yes."

"A shame." Mckenzie sighed. "I suppose alcohol will do that to you. Thank you for your help, Galos." She rose once more.

"No problem at all." Galos bowed his head.

"That's it?" Laura asked. "We didn't even ask anything! Aside from this!" She waggled the paper in Mckenzie's face.

"Oh, I've got it quite figured out," Mckenzie gave her an easy smile. "I'll confirm it and have the report sent to you. You can take the credit if you like. I won't be in town long."

"But I don't get it!" Laura whined.

"But I don't think you'd feel better if I opened your eyes." Mckenzie patted her on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll buy you a pizza before I leave."


End file.
